Sing the sea, sing the ships, Sing the sea and its ships, With the lightness and the brightness Of the foam about their lips; When reaching off to seaward, When running down to leeward, When beating up to port with the pilot at the fore; When racing down the Trade, Or ratching half afraid With a lookout on the yard for the marks along the shore. Sing them when you frame them, Sing them when you name them, For the world of life they lose you, For the home that they refuse you, For the sea that deeps beneath them and the sky that crowns above. Sing them when they leave you, Sing them when they grieve you, Going down the harbor with a smoky tug along; With the yards braced this and that, And the anchor at the cat, And the bunting saying good-bye to the watching, waving throng. Sing them when they need you, Sing them when they speed you, With their stems making trouble for the steep Atlantic seas; When the channel as she rolls Heaps the foam along the poles, And the decks fore-and-aft are awash above your knees. Sing them when they spring you, Rolling down the Trades with a breeze that never shifts; When the crew they quite forget What is meant by cold and wet, And the feel of the braces and the sheets and the lifts. Sing them when they mock you, Sing them when they shock you, Smothered under topsails with the kingly Horn abeam; When the wind flies round about And the watch is always out, And all hands are wishing that they'd signed to go in steam. Sing the sea, sing the ships, Sing the sea and its ships, With the molding and the folding Of the wave about their form; Sing them when they teach us, Sing them when they preach us, Sing them when the dying Wind has left them lying With the canvas in the brails a-tremble to the rolls; And the ocean is so still That you wonder if it will Give back to her who bore them those legions of lost souls. Sing the sea, sing the ships, Sing the sea and its ships, With the forming and the storming Of the wave athwart their bows; Sing them when you clear them, Sing them when you steer them, For the strength that they have given And the courage they arouse. For the nation that forgets them, For the nation that regrets them, Is a nation that is dying as the nations all must die; That met the Roman fate While she had a ship to guard her and a sailor to stand by. For the traffic you have won, For the web that you have spun, To catch the flies of commerce and the fleeting gnats of trade Will be rent and blown away, For the weak will never pay Their earnings to a people who have stamped themselves afraid. Pull down the selfish wall! We are not cowards all! There are some who dare to struggle with the traders of the world. Cast off the nation's chain, And give us back the main, And the flag that's never absent and the sail that's never furled. Sing the sea, sing the ships, With the mounding and the pounding Of the wave along their sides; When sailing out and bounding, When towing in and rounding, They drop the anxious anchor and they face the swinging tides. Sing them when you leave them Sing them when you heave them To a fast berth, a last berth beside the knackers quay; For our ships are getting rotten And our people have forgotten |